Hermione's Boggart
by Alternatively
Summary: If that kiss had never happened... An alternative Ron-and-Hermione get together. After Hermione has a run in with a boggart.


"I found him!" said Harry triumphantly, towing Ron into the room by the elbow of his jumper, "See, completely alive, and all in one piece!"

Ron grabbed the corner of the sofa for balance, as Harry came to an abrupt stop.

"I dunno about that. You nearly took my elbow off, dragging me down those stairs- say, Hermione, are you all right? You look a bit peaky."

Everyone swapped glances. Hermione attempted to glare at them, and gave up. She sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"I'm fine, Ron, just had a bit of a scare, that's all,"

Ron peered intently at her for a moment.

"Oh. Right, then." He frowned, "So, Harry's gone nuts then. Bound to happen some day, just thought, you know, with old Voldy gone, he-"

"It was a boggart, Ron!" Ginny burst out, worry lines wrinkling her forehead. Harry took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Right," Ron nodded. Everyone stared back expectantly. The fire crackled in the grate, and George coughed conspicuously.

"Ok, what am I missing? Presumably, Harry didn't drag me down here just because Hermione had a run in with a boggart."

Ginny bit her lip. Harry glanced over at Hermione. George tossed a twig onto the fire. Percy cleared his throat decisively and announced that he would fetch more tea.

"Ok, let's approach this from a different angle, Harry, what's the Penseive out for?"

Harry glanced back to Hermione. She nodded slightly.

"It- it's for Hermione's memory of the boggart. One of the features of copying a memory is that the original becomes less distinct. It seemed like a good idea, considering..." Harry gestured vaguely.

"Well, can I... do you mind if I...?" Ron pointed to the marble dish, filled with gently swirling opaline liquid mist.

"If... if you want..." said Hermione, going a little green at the thought, "It- it's rather unpleasant though,"

"Well, it's got the whole lot of you acting strange, so I imagine it must be," Ron folded himself onto one of the footstools and leaned over the bowl so that his long freckled nose touched the surface. His face disappeared into the swirling mist and stayed there for about a minute.

"I've never seen anyone else do this," murmured Harry, "Bizarre,"

The twitches didn't seem to correspond to any actions Harry could imagine Ron might be doing in the memory, and it rather looked like he was having a very mild fit. Harry grabbed Ron by the shoulders and pulled him out of the Pensieve.

Ron gasped and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Blimey." He said, looking round at them. The teapot caught his eye. "Promise me you've given her something stronger than tea,"

"Erm..." said George, "We all had some chocolate frogs earlier-"

Ron's eyebrows flew up.

"Chocolate?" he said incredulously, gesturing wildly with his wand hand, "What is wrong with you people? That was horrific!"

Two tumblers clunked down onto the table and a bottle of fire whisky materialised with a sizzle in Ron's hand. He splashed liquid into both tumblers and turned to pass one of them to Hermione.

"How long were you stuck in there with that- that- ?"

"Nearly two hours," said Hermione apologetically.

"What?!" yelped Ron, sloshing whisky on the floor. He shook his head in an effort to put Hermione's memory of the boggart out of his mind. He poured a more generous helping into her tumbler and went to pass it back to her. She held out a shaky hand, but he put it back down on the coffee table.

"Oh for goodness' sake! She's still shaking. She should be tucked up in bed with a Cosy Toes charm and cheerful book about muggles in love!" He looked around in disgust, and spluttered expressively, "Just... get rid of all this tea, and I'll take her up stairs. Honestly!"

This seemed to jolt everyone into action. Harry scooped up the Pensieve dish and Ginny collected teacups. George bewitched the teapot, the milk jug and the sugar bowl to trail along after him to the kitchen, and Percy, who had popped his head in to see what was happening, quickly retrieved it. Ron banished the tumblers and firewhisky upstairs and helped Hermione up off the sofa.

"I don't want- Ron, it was my room that- where it-"

"No problem," said Ron, "You sleep in my room and I'll double up with Harry. Apologies about the mess," He pushed the door open. Hermione smiled.

"Mess is a bit of an understatement."

"Er, well, you know, don't have time to tidy, working man and so on,"

Hermione pulled her wand out and gave it a general sort of a wave. Clothing separated into clean and dirty, and the deposit of miscellany arranged itself in piles against the walls. They plonked down onto the bed, and collected their tumblers of fire whisky from the bedside table.

"I've never had fire whisky before," said Hermione, eyeing the clear liquid sceptically.

"Fierce stuff." Said Ron sagely, taking large gulp.

Hermione frowned and took a small mouthful. Swallowed. Sputtered and coughed, and stared in amazement as the shaking in her hands diminished. She looked over at Ron, back at her glass, took another generous swig, and put the tumbler back down on the bedside table.

"That's... wow." She said croakily.

"Yeah." Said Ron, placing the glass back on the table. "Bloody terrifying greatest fear though. Makes my spiders look positively friendly,"

Hermione laughed weakly.

"So um, was it just me?" asked Ron, hoping it sounded like a light enquiry

Hermione nodded.

"Um. Why? I mean, um, do you know why?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him a significant look.

"Er..."

"Ahgh, you're kidding," said Hermione, going a little pink, "You don't know?"

Ron looked blank.

"I- I'm... in love with you." She looked at her hands.

Ron sat very still. Part of him, felt like perhaps there was a very loud rushing sound. Another part of him noticed that all the blood had drained from his face, leaving him, he assumed, very white. This was then followed by all of his blood racing back into his face. I'm blushing, he thought wildly, and said, with considerable more cool than he felt

"Oh,"

Hermione took another swig of fire whisky.

"Wait," said Ron, "You're... in love... with me?"

Hermione nodded.

"Oh." Ron looked thoughtful, "Then maybe I'll stay here tonight too. Not like, in a, you know, in a, like, not like that," he looked anxiously at her, "but if you, you know, and given that I'm in love with you too, it seems pointless not to, in a way, but you know, I can go, if you'd prefer. Would you, what would you like to do?"

Hermione blinked.

"Ron,"

"Er, yeah,"

"You're an idiot," she said, winding her arms around his middle and burying her head in his shoulder.

Ron, bewildered, pleased, and slightly drunk on the smell of her shampoo, wrapped his long arms around her and snuggled her in close.

Molly and Arthur, coming home late from a Muggle movie walked past the open door and found them cuddled up asleep on the bed.

"Thank heavens they've sorted that out," said Molly, turning out the light, "All that bickering was driving me up the wall,"


End file.
